


Netherite Crown

by The_Crawling_Chaos



Series: Twin Smiles [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Consequences, Dream Smp, Gen, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, POV Alternating, Slight OOC, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Wilbur Soot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Crawling_Chaos/pseuds/The_Crawling_Chaos
Summary: Heavy is the head that wears the netherite crown.This is the lesson Tommy learns firsthand as he goes to discuss affairs of state with Eret, the one time traitor of L’manburg and the current rebuilder of that very same L’manburg.Meanwhile, the shadow cabinet sits at his desk and contemplates his future alongside the nation’s newly inaugurated President.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Twin Smiles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965811
Comments: 3
Kudos: 260





	Netherite Crown

**Author's Note:**

> just to let y’all know, i read every single comment and i adore every one of my returning readers!! and i love seeing all of your amazing feedback, please keep it coming! 
> 
> (anyways, on to the show) >:)

_Thrones are cold, but crowns are colder._

Tommy knew that now. He couldn’t ever conceive of it before, when the traitor king revealed himself so long ago.

But in the present moment, with a netherite crown adorning his head and a signed treaty in his left hand, Tommy knew exactly what the phrase meant. 

It meant seizing opportunity in the throes of a power vacuum is difficult, and casts an icy cold over its host. 

Was this what Wilbur meant when he said that he was always cold? 

The armor he sat in was sterile and clean, it’s sharp, regal edges scrubbed to absolute perfection. It was no longer awkward to wear; Tommy had long since gotten used to, and even comforted by, the feel of the heavy overlapping plates that encased his body. It provided a certain safety and reassurance that no one had offered him in the recent months. How could he pass that up? 

But, he supposed that wasn’t entirely true. There _was_ one person who had been there for him in a time of need. The person he had originally touted as a purely evil villain of the grand story he was the protagonist of. A being of unexplainable origins that had somehow gravitated to him. _Him,_ a scrappy sixteen year old revolutionary with no weapons or leverage on his side at all. 

They had forged an alliance out of mutual desire to right the wrongs of past grievances, and to show the entire server what the downtrodden and overlooked could do in their desperation. Tommy had nothing left to lose, and Dream had everything left to give. 

And it all seemed to work out in the end. Not for the Manburgians or Wilbur Soot, of course, But for the two netherite clad partners, it had all fallen into place quite nicely. 

Schlatt had been held at axe-point by Dream, and strong armed into a treaty that signed away all the stolen land back to the Dream SMP. From that point he had been promptly shepherded away by his associates Quackity and Fundy. 

He had not gone quietly. 

_“How fucking dare you! How_ DARE _you! I won this goddamn country in a democratic election! The people wanted me! You can’t just shuffle me away like some common crook! Fuck you Dream, and all your little friends too! I’ll be back, you can’t keep me away for long! You tried to ban me last time, and even that didn’t stop me! Fuck you! I’ll be back, you assholes!”_

_Quackity put his hand on the frothing and enraged deposed president’s shoulder._

_“Please sir, we gotta go. They’re pointing guns at us.”_

_Only Tommy had his crossbow loaded and ready. But there was a certain endless fire in his eyes that pushed Quackity to the edge of his patience._

_From there, it had all been quite simple._

Tommy got up from his cold throne. 

He had one task left for the day. It was the most dreadful, bothersome task yet, but it had to be done. Dream wouldn’t accept anything less than full completion. But still, Tommy found himself procrastinating the long trek to Eret’s not-so humble abode. 

His last job for the day was to enter into a contract with Eret. This contract would seal his relationship with the newly reestablished L’manburg, and state that he would not move against it or attempt to reintroduce Schlatt into the Dream SMP territories surrounding it. All of this would be followed under the penalty of exile and the stripping of his title and influence. But this treaty would also entitle him to a place in the L’manburg elite and cabinet, if he wished to claim it. 

Tommy would’ve liked to cut to the chase already and call it a day. But, Dream had insisted that he, the new President, be there in person to deliver the treaty. (Although everyone knew that Tommy was more akin to the Emperor of L’manburg than the President. It went as an unspoken rule that his might was imperial rather than executive.) 

So here he was, in full enchanted netherite armor, knocking at Eret’s castle door. 

“Yes?” 

Eret poked his head out of the door, glasses hanging loosely from his face and exposing the glowing white of his eyes. 

“I’m here to sign a treaty with you. Can I come in?” 

Eret pushed up his glasses and opened the door fully. Tommy quickly flicked his eyes to the room behind him, and saw Niki slumped on Eret’s living room couch. She looked exhausted. 

“Sure. Please follow me to the war room. I assume that’ll be where you’ll want to sign this thing?” 

Instead of answering with words, Tommy nodded curtly. He didn’t trust himself to speak quite yet; he was still fighting all the emotions that seeing Eret stirred up in his chest. Anger, sadness, remembrance, betrayal. It was too much for his mind to juggle all at once. 

But he managed to pull himself together long enough to make his way through the winding corridors after Eret. They passed Niki, who lay on the plush couch as still as a corpse. Her eyes were sunken and her expression was sucked dry of any vitality. It seemed that when Fundy left he had taken a piece of Niki’s soul with him. 

Tommy turned his head away. It was too depressing a sight for him to watch. 

Eret led him into a spacious room with maps and weapons strewn about haphazardly. It must have been the war room. It didn’t look like it had been serviced in quite a long time. 

“Sorry about the mess. I’ve had barely any time to clean up since all the crazy shit that’s been happening recently.” 

Eret’s deep voice, normally so calm and steady, was now beginning to falter. He sounded so nervous and jittery, very unlike his usual self. This piqued Tommy’s interest and it allowed him to swat away his feelings and focus on the present. 

“It’s fine. I lived in a ravine complex until like, yesterday, so….the mess doesn’t really bother me.” 

Eret paused for a moment. The look on his face was horrified, and then realization crossed over his blank, glowing eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” 

That was all he said in response to Tommy’s naked and obvious suffering. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s behind us. Right now, I’d like you to sign this treaty.” 

Tommy handed Eret the crinkled and weathered papyrus that detailed the alliance in overly flowery language. Dream really had a flair for the dramatic. And Tommy supposed he now did as well, since he helped draft it. 

Eret read it over. His facial expression changed minutely as he absorbed the terms and conditions; it went from curiosity, to passivity, to frustration, and then finally to acceptance. It was a rollercoaster of emotions that Tommy took in all at once. He had gotten quite good at reading people lately. 

“This sounds like a good deal. You have a pen?” 

  
  


. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  


Eret watched Tommy’s back as he exited the huge castle doors. Even from the rear view Eret could see that he had been changed from the naive and excitable kid he had been months earlier. His posture was straighter, his armor now polished and formal, and his hair, which had been so disheveled and messy before, was now expertly combed back. It matured the rest of his features and let Eret see how seriously he took his new role as L’manburg’s president. 

The changes, though appropriate, felt _wrong._

Seeing Tommy without his usual youthful glee and exuberance felt disturbing. His light, so bright and hopeful, had been dimmed by the weight of responsibility and all the hardships he had gone through. 

Eret suddenly felt the need to sit down. His crown was too heavy on his head, and his royal robe too scratchy on his cheeks. Everything was too hot and too cold at the same time. 

He should’ve never turned on his friends that day in the Final Control Room. If he had stayed with them maybe he could’ve prevented this…..nightmare scenario. He could’ve _done something, anything_ to have prevented this. 

But, he had given into the sweet siren song of power. And it had just claimed another victim. 

  
  


. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  


Dream waited for Tommy to come back to the secret base in the underground tunnels. He twirled his sword around in his hands, the automatic muscle memory movements beautiful and smooth as silk. He was about to pull out his communicator from his belt when Tommy slid into the base from the trapdoor in the wall. 

Dream sat up straight and cleared his throat. “Did you get him to sign it?” 

“Yeah, it was pretty easy big man.” There wasn’t any emotion in Tommy’s delivery. Clearly he was getting better at hiding his true thoughts and feelings. Good. 

“Great! I told you it wouldn’t be so hard!” He didn’t have to force the cheerfulness into his voice. It came to his lips happily, and sounded as natural as can be. Dream really _was_ pleased with Tommy’s performance. 

“Yeah. I think I’ll go up to the community house to sleep tonight, if that’s alright.” 

It was more of a statement than a question, but Dream gave him the approval he wanted.

“Sure, I don’t have a problem with that. But Tommy, you’re the _president_ now! You don’t have to ask me for my permission to go sleep somewhere! You can do it all on your own.” 

The look on Tommy’s face was truly indescribable. Dream was suddenly glad for the mask; he didn’t need to conceal his blatant confusion at the sight of Tommy’s slanted eyes and arched eyebrows. 

“You’re right, you’re right of course. I didn’t need to ask. I just wanted to make sure you knew I was gonna be crashing there for the time being.” 

Dream opened his mouth to say more, but was then interrupted by the distinctive jingle-jangle of keys. 

“And I hope you don’t mind, I’ll be keeping these for just a little while. I might find some use for them.” 

He quickly pocketed the keys and saluted with two fingers. “See you around.” 

Once Tommy had left Dream alone in the underground base, he quickly checked the key rack for the _cell keys._ He rummaged for a second and took a step back. And then another, and another. 

He bumped into the wall behind him. 

The keys to Wilbur’s jail cell were gone. 


End file.
